The Swan

Chapter 12 (Quackity)

TW: Family issues, implied death (all past tense)

Stay safe <3

A boy's wide gaze followed the skater as they glided over the ice so easily and fluidly and perfectly in rhythm with the song playing. The boy couldn't stop watching. He was entranced with the movement of the dancer, especially when he watched his mother skate. Seeing how she could be so amazing out on the ice gave him the courage to try it himself.

"Remember little duck, don't try to walk, only slide your feet forward. Got it?" his mother's voice echoed over the ice.

"Got it mama!" the boy replied with confidence. Yet as soon as he went to move forward, he slipped and fell on his back, letting out a grunt. His mother rushed over and helped him up. The boy was eager to try again.

It didn't last when he grew older.

"You want to become an ice skater?" his father had asked. The boy nodded with excitement.

"Just like mama! She's really cool when she skates, I wanna do it too!" he explained with a bounce.

"That's a girl's sport, you just wanna be a girl! Little brother wants to be a girrrl HAHA!" his brother laughed.

"No! I've seen boys do it too! I don't want to be a girl, dude!" the boy retorted.

"He could be right, son. Maybe try playing soccer?" the father suggested, sounding a bit displeased.

"But- papa-" the boy was cut off.

"I don't want you playing a girly sport if you're a boy. You'll be made fun of so it's for your own good," the father waved a hand dismissively.

The boy stopped talking. He stood for a minute before walking to his room silently. He wasn't a girl, he definitely was a boy. Can he really not play it because he was a boy? Was mom lying to him the whole time? The boy's body quivered while he gripped onto his pillow. Tears flowed down his face as he silently cried into the pillow behind his closed bedroom door.

A week later, his mother was admitted to the hospital, diagnosed with brain cancer. She wouldn't have much more time to live. He cried into her arms.

Now you might think this is going a bit fast, but the worst things that happen seem like they last longer than they do.

The boy became more shut in when his mother was in the hospital. Barely ever joining his father, brother, and sisters downstairs anymore. He stayed in his room, watching videos, doing homework, really anything that kept him busy. He took up card games and watched shows about mafia, gambling, hitmen, drugs, it was his favorite genre.

One day he came home to a box on his bed, a shoebox. There was no note or anything. When he opened the box, he saw his mother's skates. He looked away and closed the box. That box was shoved under his bed to be forgotten.

The next morning he was informed that his mother had died late the previous night. After that, he completely shut himself in his room. He stopped going to school, he stopped going anywhere. The only time he actually got out of his room was to get food. Any other time, his door was locked. He distanced from his friends and barely talked to his family. 

This went on for a while.